Hooligans in the Halls
by Nikki Chime
Summary: "Jegus, they don't pay me enough for this shit," she groaned, downing another drink. "No, no, it's not so bad," reassured Roxy, papping Rose's hand gently. "They're all really kind of shitty at bein' a gang." Rated T for language and inebriated behavior.


A/n: In case of confusion, specific jobs will be listed at the bottom. Characters not featured in this fic will be listed on my bio. Enjoy!

000

Dave Strider leaned against the doorframe of his older brother Dirk's bathroom, tapping his foot in an impatient rhythm. Dirk carefully adjusted a spike in his hair, then leaned back to scrutinize his handiwork. Perfection. He was a hair styling god.

"Come on, bro, we gotta go. We're late enough as it is," said Dave as he checked his watch. Again. For the sixth time.

"I'm almost done, Dave," replied Dirk. "It takes time to look this good."

"Bro, you've been messing with the same piece of hair for 10 minutes, it's getting ridiculous," Dave said. "It's not like you're going on a date, it's our cousins' house. Rose and Roxy couldn't give a shit what your hair looks like."

"Alright, alright we'll leave," said Dirk, throwing his arms up in feigned defeat. Rare was the day that Dirk Strider actually ceded victoryto his brother. Theirs was a strange and convoluted (not to mention ironic) war.

"It's about time," muttered Dave as he jammed his hands into his pockets and strolled toward the door of Dirk's apartment. The brothers pushed open the white door and Dave headed down the stairs as Dirk locked the up his apartment.

"Who's driving?" called Dirk as he followed Dave down the stairwell.

"Me, of course. I'm not getting into your car," Dave answered, already opening the driver's door to his red car.

"What? Do the puppets freak you out?" asked Dirk.

"Fuck yeah, those goddamn puppets are diabolical. I don't get why you keep so much puppet ass in your car," Dave said. "It's gotta be illegal," he added under his breath

"You used to love my puppets!" exclaimed Dirk as he plopped down in the passenger's seat. "When you were little, you used to cuddle with Lil Cal every night."

"Yeah, well Lil Cal's different. He's the man. It's the rest of them. What do you call them? Muppets?"

"Smuppets, Dave. They're called smuppets."

"Whatever, bro. They're creepy as fuck," Dave said with a shrug as he pulled out and began to drive to the Lalonde residence. "Why do you keep so many in your car anyway?"

"When Jake and I were still together, they used to freak him out so I put most of them in my car. I haven't ever gotten around to putting them back in my apartment." answered Dirk, his words tinged with sadness. "Besides, they're really fun to place around the classroom to freak the kids out," Dirk added, his grin returning.

"You do that with the smuppets too? I thought Lil Cal was special!" scoldedDavedisappointedly.

"I like to mix it up every now and then," Dirk said with a shrug. "High schoolers are a lot harder to scare than the little kids. They've already gotten used to the Lil Cal scheme, but they're never prepared for a sudden cascade of smuppet ass" added Dirk.

"Alright, that makes sense," admitted Dave. "I still get a kick out of seeing the look of horror on the little squirts' faces when they see Lil Cal."

"Let's just hope Rose doesn't find out. Then we'll never hear the end of it," laughed Dirk. "Can you imagine the scolding we would get if she ever finds out?"

"Ugh, don't even talk about that. I have a headache already," moaned Dave.

Finally, Dave pulled up to a little white house with a long brick path and neatly trimmed lawn. The Striders exited the car and walked up the path toward their cousins' home. Dirk rang the doorbell which chimed melodiously from within the home. "It's open!" sang out a voice. Dave turned the knob and pushed open the door.

The two brothers stared inside without stepping into the house. They continued to stare. They probably would have stared for even longer if a petite blonde with a martini glass in her hand had not chosen that moment to enter the hallway and exclaim, "You're late! We started the party without you!"

"Uh, hey Roxy," Dirk mumbled.

"Rose, your creepy cat is staring again," Dave called out, a little uneasily.

The blonde turned to look at her cousins. Then at the kitten. Then back to the Striders. Roxy took a sip from her martini then said, with a hand on her hip, "I don't think she likes you two very much."

"Yeah well, the feeling is mutual," muttered Dave. At that moment, another blonde emerged from the kitchen. She leaned down and picked up the kitten who purred with delight.

"Are you bothering my cat again?" asked Rose. "Really Dave? I thought you would have better things to do than have a staring contest with a kitten. Now would you two come in like normal people? You're letting out the air."

"She started it," Dave mumbled as the brothers hastily stepped into the house.

"Roxy, I thought you had given up drinking," commented Dirk a little suspiciously.

"Only during the week, Dirk! Duh!" Roxy corrected, fishing the olive from her already empty glass and popping it in her mouth. "Rosie! I'm ready for another martini!"

"Already? I just made you one," replied Rose. "Why don't you make one yourself?"

"But Rosie," moaned Roxy. "You make them better. I want you to do it!"

"Fine. But you have to set the table first."

"Yay!" exclaimed Roxy gleefully as she bounced into the kitchen to gather plates. Without a word, Dave and Dirk sat down as the round table in the kitchen and waited patiently. Usually, the brothers would offer to help their cousins, however, their last dinner party ended with shattered plates, broken glasses and a gooey serving of lasagna smashed into Rose's favorite purple dress. Needless to say, they were no longer allowed to help with the preparations.

With any other pairthis would have created an awkward situation. Not so with the Strider brothers. Their air of coolness and mystery sucked all of the awkward out of the room faster than a black hole devouring sunlight. Awkward didn't have a chance.

Table set, the four cousins sat down to eat and discuss their respective weeks. And to drink. It was impossible for the Lalonde-Striders to discuss children without a glass (or several) of alcohol. Well, it was usually the Lalondes who did most of the drinking, while the Striders sipped a few beers. It was only at these little dinner parties that Rose would let loose enough to drink. And once she got going, there was no stopping her.

"So, how have your weeks been?" began Dirk, digging into a second helping of chicken while the others contented themselves with the alcohol at the table.

"You will not believe how busy I've been this week. The new crop of freshmen is horrible," complained Rose, polishing off her fifth drink. "Like, way worse than usual."

"What could they have poshibly done that's so bad, Rosie?" asked Roxy.

"Let's see, one kid brought a crowbar to school and destroyed a sculpture in the art room. Another kid had a pocketknife and tried to stab someone. Another one started a fire in the hallway," Rosesighed. "Need I go on?"

"Jeez that's crazy," agreed Roxy. Suddenly, Dave's eyebrows rose up and he leaned forward, looking straight at Rose.

"Wait a minute. Did you say a kid brought a crowbar?" questioned Dave.

"That's literally what I just said," responded Rose, looking at her cousin in confusion. Dave then leaned back into his chair grinning widely. "What are you smirking at?" Rose snapped.

"Oh my god, Rox, it's finally happened," said Dave. "Do you know how long I have been waiting for this day?"

"What are you talkin' about, Davey? I don't get-OH!" Roxy's eyes bugged out and her face burst into a grin. "Oh my god we have to tell them!"

"What?" asked Dirk, getting impatient.

"Dude, you've got the Felt and the Midnight Crew as students now," Dave said.

"Excuse me? The who?" Rose questioned, bewildered.

"Okay, it's really cute. They have these little groups and they pretend like they're in a gang and it's supposed to be this big huge secret," explained Roxy. "But oh my god, you can't tell them you know."

"GANGS?" shouted Rose. "Jegus, they don't pay me enough for this shit," she groaned, downing another drink.

"No, no, it's not so bad," reassured Roxy, papping Rose's hand gently. "They're all really kind of shitty at bein' a gang."

"But we haven't even told you the best part!" exclaimed Dave, getting more and more excited. "They have secret code names that they call each other by and they try to be all smooth about it but Roxy and I have figured out almost all of their nicknames."

"They have nicknames for each other," Dirk repeated, still trying to process this new information.

"Yeah!" added Roxy. "We know all of the Felt-"

"That's the bigger gang," interrupted Dave. "Itchy, Doze, Trace, Clover, Fin, Die, Crowbar, Snowman, Stitch, Sawbuck, Matchsticks, Eggs, Biscuits, Quarters, and Cans," Dave said as he counted off on his fingers.

"Fifteen," moaned Rose, shaking her head. "There are fifteen. And that's just _one_ gang."

"Don't worry, Rosie! There's only four members of the Midnight Crew," Roxy giggled, Rose groaning in response.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Porrim and I might as well move into the guidance office so we can deal with those-those-" Rose blustered.

"Criminals?" suggested Dirk.

"I was thinking hooligans but that works too," cried Rose, grabbing a bottle of vodka off the table and dumping the rest of the contents into her glass.

"What I want to know is how you guys figured this all out," Dirk declared.

"Honestly, most of them are pretty dumb, especially in the Felt," said Dave with a shrug.

"Davey, that's not very nice!" scolded Roxy. "And they're not dumb, they're just a little slow."

"Let's be honest here, Rox. The only Felt with any brains are Crowbar, Stitch and Snowman," argued Dave.

"What about the Midnight Crew?" asked Dirk, eagerly leaning closer while Rose drained another glass, looking more and more distressed.

"We've only been able to figure out their gang name and first half of each of their nicknames," Roxy said. "They always stop themselves before finishing,"

"Yeah, they named themselves after the four suits in a deck of cards," added Dave.

"Man, these kids suck at nicknames. Some of the Felt ones are good but most of them are stupid," drawledDirk. "And the suits of cards? That's so lame. Who the fuck would take a gangster with 'Hearts' in his name seriously?"

"Guys," whined Rose, pouring herself another drink. "We have more important things to worry about than their stupid nicknames."

"Stupid is right," agreed Dave. "I've been wanting to come up with new nicknames for the Midnight Crew but Roxy won't let me because it would be 'stepping on their creativity' or whatever."

"Guys? Are you just going to ignore me?" Rose asked. "I'm gonna have to deal with these nuts and all you guys care about is debating their nicknames!"

"Give us a minute, Rose. This is important," said Dave holding up a hand to silence his cousin. Rose groaned again and banged her head on the table.

"Dave, we could come up with way cooler nicknames," Dirk commented.

"No!" protested Roxy, slamming a fist onto the table and sloshing some of her drink out of the glass. "You have to keep the card part, otherwise it ruins everything!"

"What would you suggest then, Roxy?" Dave challenged. Roxy put a finger to her chin and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment while she thought.

"I've got it!" Roxy exclaimed suddenly. "Clubs Deuce! That sounds perfect for him! He's little and adorable and it keeps his suit name!" Roxy shouted gleefully. Dave snorted at the suggestion. Then yelped in pain when Roxy slapped his arm.

"Come on, Rox. That's stupid. The little one not even a real gangster, he's just their little comic relief," Dave quipped. "We should call him...Courtyard Droll because honestly, he's their clown. I'll bet the others laugh at him behind his back."

"That's not true!" Roxy argued. "He's really close with Hearts!"

"What, that brute?" scoffed Dave.

"Whoa, I've seen that guy, he looks like the boss," said Dirk. Suddenly he clapped his hands together and shouted "That's it! He can be Hegemonic Brute!"

"The hedgemoney-what? What does that even mean?" asked Dave. "Where the fuck do you learn these words?"

"It basically means leading or dominant," explained Dirk. "And I learn them because I read actual books instead of those stupid comics you're always reading."

"That's a low blow, bro. I can't believe you would-" began Dave

"But Spades is the leader," insisted Roxy, interrupting Dave before an argument began between the brothers. At this point, Rose lifted her head up from the table and silently watched her family argue.

"True," agreed Dave. "He's a slick son of a bitch...oh that's actually pretty good. Spades Slick. I like that."

"Me too!" Roxy agreed. "But your nickname for Hearts is awful. He may be big but he's really a sweetie and I believe in him. I think his nickname should be Hearts-Hearts...Boxcars! Hearts Boxcars!"

"Why Boxcars?" Dave questioned.

"At least my nickname makes sense," added Dirk.

"Boxcars are a part of a train and they do all the heavy lifting which is kind of what Hearts does," explained Roxy.

"I guess that works but I like my nickname better," Dirk retorted. "And I think we can think of something even better for Spades. Something darker and tougher."

"Jack Noir," Rose said suddenly. The other Lalonde-Striders looked at her as if she had gotten up and started to juggle the empty bottles strewn across the table or started to prophesize the coming of the gods. Or possibly both. "What? If you guys are gonna ignore me, I might as well join you."

"Jack Noir," repeated Dave slowly.

"Yeah. Jack seems like a good gangster name and 'noir' is French or something for black, showing his dark side," Rose clarified.

"That's pretty good," commented Dave. "Not bad, Rose."

"That's the spirit Rosie!" Roxy shouted, grinning at her sister. "Now all we have left is Diamonds!"

"Aw man, he's my favorite. He has to have the coolest nickname," said Dave. "Bro, you're gonna love him, he has such good taste in music."

"I dunno, he tries to be all classy and shit but he's kinda a stoog," said Roxy as she poured herself another drink.

"A 'stoog'? What the fuck is that?" asked Dave.

"Do you mean stooge?" Dirk questioned, Roxy nodding vigorously in response.

"Bro, how do you that?" whispered Dave. "You always understand her slurred up words."

"I dealt with Roxy through four years of alcohol-fueled college parties. I had to develop the ear for her drunk talk," muttered Dirk back.

"Why not call him Diamonds Droog?" suggested Rose. "It rhymes with Roxy's word and I think it means something boring in some language."

"Let me look it up," said Dirk as he withdrew his phone from his pocket. "Droog means dry in Dutch," Dirk announced reading from his search results.

"That's perfect!" exclaimed Roxy. "Good one, Rosie!"

"Fuck no, he's my favorite you're not giving him a name like that!" Dave argued. "He should be something cool like a- like a Dignitary."

"How about Draconian Dignitary?" Dirk suggested and Dave grinned in response.

"That what I'm talking about. Draconian sounds so badass,"Dave crowed.

"I'm about 70% sure that word doesn't mean what you think it means," said Rose. "Dirk, look it up on your-your-mini computer."

"My phone?" asked Dirk as Rose nodded and waved him on. Typing quickly into the search bar, the results popped up and Dirk read out "Draconian means excessively harsh or severe when it comes to the law."

"Well fuck that. We're going to pretend that it means dragons because it's cooler that way," Dave demanded.

"Whatever, Dave. Our nickname is better," gloated Roxy as she high fived her sister. Then, Rose yawned widely and stretched out her arms.

"Well this has been fun, but I'm tired," Rose murmured as she rose from her seat. "Roxy can you make up the bed for them? I want to go to sleep."

"No problem, Rosie. Night!" chirped Roxy, pecking her sister on the cheek. "I'll clean up too, don't worry."

"Thanks, sis," Rose murmured as she reached over to hug her cousins before turning and walking out of the kitchen. Suddenly, Rose popped her head back in the doorway. "One more thing, Rox. Can you remind me of something in the morning?"

"Yeah, what is it?" asked Roxy. Rose smiled at bit and looked straight at the Striders.

"I need to have a serious talk with our cousins about their puppet fetishes," said Rose as the brothers eyebrows shot up in surprise, their shades falling down the bridges of their noses. "Kanaya's orders," Rose added before turning and leaving the room.

There was a long silence as the Striders sat motionless in their seats. After some time, the brothers turned to look at each other.

"Well, we're fucked," Dave groaned.

"Yep," sighed Dirk.

000

A/n: Rose is a high school guidance counselor, Roxy is a third grade teacher, Dave is an elementary school music teacher, and Dirk is the high school orchestra teacher.

Written by Princess Pamela, who doesn't have an account of her own but is happy to share mine. Beta'd by me! Sequels hopefully to come, reviews always welcome.


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